


The Day Kenny Cried

by pepsicola



Category: South Park
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:42:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22808050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepsicola/pseuds/pepsicola
Summary: Some days, Kenny feels too stressed to do more than stare off silently. Usually, he's good at that. Today, he's not.
Relationships: Kenny McCormick & Butters Stotch, Kenny McCormick/Butters Stotch
Comments: 10
Kudos: 94





	The Day Kenny Cried

They were twelve, walking to the park together after returning from the store. They went because Butters’ parents wanted him to buy groceries, and Kenny went too because lately, Kevin was too busy working to stop by the store to buy food.

Butters bought himself a new basketball on the way out. He dribbled it as he and Kenny walked shoulder to shoulder. Every time the ball hit the sidewalk, Kenny could hear the echo within it. With each point of contact from Butters’ fingertips to the bounce on the pavement, an uncomfortable twist in Kenny’s throat got tighter.

At the courts, Butters caught the ball with both hands after bouncing it one last time. “Wanna play Horse? We don’t have enough people for Knockout,” he said.

It was just the two of them. Kyle, Stan, and Cartman were up to no good, Kenny presumed. Honestly, he wasn’t too sure. He didn’t bother with their drama when he and Butters were alone. But he liked it when it was just him and Butters without Cartman and Kyle’s bickering, and Stan having to interfere.

“Sure,” Kenny said. “You go first.”

Butters stepped up to the free throw line. He tossed the ball and made it in. He passed the ball to Kenny.

He made it look so easy.

Kenny went up to the free throw line, aligning the toes of his pink Converse with it. He aimed the ball before throwing it. It missed, bouncing off the backboard.

“H,” he said with a sigh.

Every time he went after Butters, he missed. After only four turns, Kenny was on his last letter, E.

He held the ball up in position, silently praying that he’d make it in because he hadn’t made one basket. He felt like he was making a fool of himself.

A light gust of spring wind blew through his thin, worn out T-shirt. His orange jacket was tied around his waist after he got hot from embarrassment at missing each time.

He pushed the ball off his fingers, launching it at the hoop.

The arc it made gave Kenny the impression he would make the perfect swish. A spark of excitement jumped in his chest. Instead, it balanced on the rim after bouncing a couple times. Right as it looked about to lean into the basket, it tumbled over the wrong way. It fell to the ground, ricocheting off towards the bushes.

A pricking sensation rose to Kenny’s eyes as he watched the ball roll further and further away.

Butters ran after it before it got too far. It rolled under the hedges growing over the fence separating the park from the street.

Kenny’s lip started to tremble as he heard the whisper of leaves parting around the ball. Butters crouched, stretching into the tangle of leaves and branches to retrieve the ball. He held it in his arms, standing in triumph. He even had a proud little smirk on his face. The basketball was new, so bright orange in his arms.

Kenny burst into tears.

Butters hurried over to the courts and dropped the ball on the empty bench. He ran over to Kenny. “Kenny, are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asked, all while taking Kenny into his arms and holding him tight. “It’s okay to miss a shot. I missed all the time too. I was on R. I wasn’t doin’ so hot either.”

He thought Kenny was crying because he hadn’t made not one basket.

He was wrong.

Kenny wasn’t often held at home. His parents stopped holding him and his siblings after they had started kindergarten. Kevin only ever held Kenny when he could tell he was having a bad day. As Kenny got older, though, he hid those emotions, trying to be strong and keep himself in check like Kevin.

By the time he was eleven, Kevin no longer hugged Kenny until he felt better. Kenny was so good at hiding his pain that Kevin thought he didn’t need it.

Kenny was always the one holding Karen. She was too young and oblivious to see he needed to be held too.

So having Butters keep his arms around Kenny for more than just a split second made him cry harder, realizing how much he missed the intimate touch.

Butters lowered them to the ground. Kenny kept his face hidden in the crook of Butters’ neck. His face was burning with tears and shame. Butters didn’t say a word, allowing Kenny to let it all out. He ran his fingers through Kenny’s hair, twirling long strands around his finger.

Kenny clung to Butters’ blue shirt for dear life as he cried until he had no tears left.

Kenny was so terrified that he’d die in Butters’ arms. He was afraid he’d die from the searing misery and self-pity in his chest. He didn’t want to die with Butters’ comforting arms around him. It would be too good a death.

Later, Kenny would realize the only reason he lived through that affliction in the basketball courts was because Butters didn’t let him go. Not for a second.

Kenny stared at the blue fabric of Butters’ shirt that he had gripped in his fist. The blue suddenly brought the image of the oceans in Hawaii. Hawaii reminded Kenny of the trip there he took with Butters. The blue reminded him of how calm and carefree he felt being alone with Butters there on that island, stripped of the stress of the life they lived back in South Park.

Even though he was crying the hardest he’d ever cried, Kenny felt safe and secure in Butters’ arms.

Kenny closed his mouth to muffle his pathetic sobs. He squeezed his eyes shut and, in his tearful, sniffly, weak state, he decided, _I swear I’ll protect Leo no matter the circumstance._ _Nothing in the world will come between us. We’ll always be right by each other’s sides, no matter what. I’ll die for him. I’ll die for him even if I won’t come back the next day._

Butters held Kenny without prying for a reason for his tears. Kenny was grateful. If Butters asked, he wouldn’t have an answer.

Kenny didn’t come to realize it, but he fell in love with Butters that spring day in the middle of the basketball courts, empty except for them, as Butters held Kenny and let him cry on his shoulder, giving him everything he never knew he needed.


End file.
